


Duty and Devotion

by thedeathchamber



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bodily Fluids, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeathchamber/pseuds/thedeathchamber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Pleasure me.” Loki said. He threw back his head, and the long lines of his neck were stretched taut, bared and vulnerable. “I weary of cowering in this filth.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty and Devotion

 

Clint remembered. He remembered the stench of the Danube in Budapest and the cloying heat in Hanoi, the noise in Chicago and the colors of New Orleans... he remembered Natasha. A lifetime of meaningless clutter in his head. 

“Tell me.” Loki demanded. “Tell me _everything._ ” And Clint supplied without question. He could deny Loki nothing except the sound Natasha made when he kissed the nape of her neck or how she always smelled of leather and gun oil and expensive perfume, like backstreet Moscow. It could mean nothing to Loki, yet it stirred something within him that went against everything he was now. 

Loki was all that concerned him now. Loki, who tasted so sharp on his tongue, like ice and metal. His skin was cool and clammy to the touch, warming only fleetingly under Clint’s mouth and hands, but the smell of leather clung to him and Clint’s body responded to the scent. He pushed his hips down against Loki, who lay limp beneath him, while he nipped at the thin skin of his throat. Loki allowed their lips to meet for a moment, but pushed him away with a vicious tug on his hair when Clint licked at his parted lips. 

The mattress complained when Clint sat back on his heels. Loki raised himself on an elbow and glared at him. He looked pallid in the weak light, shimmering with perspiration and eyes burning feverishly. He looked... _human_. That made no difference to Clint, who did not follow out of devotion but duty. 

“Pleasure me.” Loki said. He threw back his head, and the long lines of his neck were stretched taut, bared and vulnerable. “I weary of cowering in this filth.” Clint felt his throat move as he spoke and sought out his fluttering pulse. The throb of blood under his fingers increased as his grip tightened. Loki’s breath stuttered in something like laughter. 

His body arched and Clint’s hand trailed down to his chest; he teased a pert nipple and traced the raised edges of a scar on his ribcage before reaching blindly for the oil he’d set aside earlier. Loki jabbed at his calf with the heel of one foot with a snarl when it spilled over his thigh and belly, so Clint gathered the droplets with the tips of his fingers, smudging to the oil onto his skin. 

Before long he had Loki whimpering as his hips rose and fell with the movement of Clint’s hand on his cock. Loki gripped his arm tight enough to bruise when Clint moved to take them both in hand; their cocks slid together in the loose circle of his slippery fingers, leaving wet smears of oil and pre-come on Loki’s skin. 

“This is... quite satisfying, but I rather expected more from you, Agent Barton.” Loki groaned after some time.

“Tell me what you need.” Clint grunted. 

Loki spread his legs wider. “I would have you.” he breathed.

Clint didn’t understand the words Loki murmured, and for an instant it was Natasha before him, tight and wet around his fingers and swearing breathlessly in Russian. 

Loki splayed his hand out on his chest. “Agent Barton.” 

“Sir.” Clint answered, sliding in a third finger.

Loki ran his hands over the breadth of Clint’s shoulders and down the planes of his chest, thumbing at his nipples and scratching at the ripple of muscle of his abdomen. 

“That’s enough.” he panted, lifting his hips.

Clint palmed himself cursorily with fingers still warm and sticky, and Loki’s thighs trembled when Clint pushed inside him.

“Fuck.” Clint’s mouth was dry though sweat beaded on his upper lip as he built up a rhythm. He was distantly aware of the sound of footsteps in the hallway, meaningless against the sound of their heavy breathing and the heat spreading out from the point where they were joined. 

The sheets bunched up beneath him as he pulled Loki closer, smoothing a palm over the back of his thigh and the crook of his knee. He squeezed the ankle on his shoulder while Loki’s breath hitched at the change of angle.

Loki gasped something unintelligible and reached down between his legs. Clint tangled his fingers with Loki’s and sped up his strokes until wetness spillt onto his hand and splattered on both their bellies.

Clint’s balls tightened at the sound Loki made when he came and the grip of his arse around his cock.

“ _Fuck._ ” he repeated, hoisting Loki’s other leg onto his shoulder to increase the depth of his thrusts.

Loki’s laughter was breathless. “Go on.”

Clint squeezed his eyes shut and only opened them once his hips had stuttered to a stop. He pulled out, still dripping, when Loki shoved him with a foot on his chest.

He sat on the edge of the bed and cleaned himself with a towel, then wiped the worst of the mess off Loki, who lay languid and silent.

“Will that be all, sir?” Clint asked.

Loki brushed his foot against his side fleetingly. “That will be all, Agent Barton.” Clint saw his lips curve into a smug smile out of the corner of his eye. “I knew you would not disappoint.”

Clint nodded brusquely. “Thank you, sir.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's only my second time writing a sex scene, so comments would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading!


End file.
